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GIUSEPPE 


AND 


LAUGHTER WINS 


FAIRY TALES FOR 
WORKINGMEN’S 
CHILDREN 


Containing The Hymn Cosmopolitan 


By HENRY T. SCHNITTKIND 


XXa 


STRATFORD PUBLISHING COMPANY 
BOSTON 


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Copyright, 1914 {all rights reserved) 
BY 

HENRY T. SCHNITTKIND 

JAM -5 1914 


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CONTENTS 


(^lusieppe 

Chapter Page 

I. Giuseppe Learns About the Factory .... 11 

II. Giuseppe’s Games 15 

III. Giuseppe and the Sparrow 19 

IV. Giuseppe Meets the Mermaid ..... 22 

V. Off to America 26 

VI. Giuseppe and the Mermaid in the Steerage . . 29 

VII. Giuseppe Visits the Castle Garden .... 35 

VIII. The Strike 42 

IX. The Workingmen’s Parade 47 

X. Giuseppe’s Trial 50 

Cte Upmn Cosimopolitan . . 52 

Haufltitcr ®Kinsi ... 57 




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(iiusieppe 


CHAPTER I. 

Giuseppe Learns about the Factory. 


Giuseppe was a little Italian boy whose father and mother lived in 
the middle of a garden full of orange trees and apple trees. The fruits 
of these trees were the biggest and the most beautiful in the whole coun- 
try, and so everybody bought them and made his parents quite rich. 
One day a poor man came to their house and said that he was tired and 
hungry. Giuseppe ’s father gave him plenty to eat and to drink and then 
told him to lie down under a large apple-tree to rest. When this man 
was all rested, he told Giuseppe ’s parents his story : 

‘ ‘ My name is Enrico, ’ ^ he said, ‘ ‘ and I have come a hundred miles on 
foot, all the way from Rome. In that city I have an old father and a sick 
wife. I worked in a factory and supported them ; but one day I lost my 
job and my wife had to go to work.^’ 

And what do you think Giuseppe’s father said to Enrico when he 
heard this? You can’t guess, and so I’ll tell you. Giuseppe’s father 
was very angry and cried out, “You are a wicked man if you don’t work 
yourself, but make your wife work instead!” 

‘ ‘Well, ’ ’ said Enrico, “ it is this way. When I worked, the boss paid 
me eight dollars a week. But now he can get my wife to work for four 
dollars a week, and that is why I lost my job.” 

“Oh, now I understand,” said Giuseppe’s father. “Well, go on 
with your story. ’ ’ 

“When I lost my job,” continued Enrico, “I could not get along 
with four dollars a week, and that was all that my wife earned. I tried 
to get a job but I couldn’t. Everybody told me that there wasn’t 
enough work. ’ ’ 

“That’s funny,” said Giuseppe’s father, “I’ve just read in the 
papers that there is enough v/ork for everybody who is willing to work.” 

“The papers are not telling the truth, and they are trjdng to fool 
you. There are millions and millions of people who can’t get any 
work. ’ ’ And then Enrico told him many things that perhaps would not 


111 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


be very interesting to you, for you are anxious to hear about little 
Giuseppe himself, and so I must skip over all these things now. Some 
day, perhaps, 1 11 tell them to you, but now we will go on with the story. 

After they had talked for a long time, Enrico told Giuseppe ^s 
father that he was looking for work and that was why he had come 
all the way from Rome. Now it happened that Mr Giuseppe needed 
a man to help him just then, and so he employed Enrico. 

That afternoon, when Enrico had finished his work, a little boy 
ran out of the house and called his name. Do you know who this 
boy was? Let me tell you how he looked, and you will guess. Have 
you ever seen two stars smiling in through your window just after 
you had awakened from a lovely dream about a circus? This boy’s 
eyes were just as bright and just as dancing as those stars. And have 
you ever seen the sun rise up in the morning, with his face washed 
fresh and rosy in the sea and wiped clean and glowing by the fleecy^ 
clouds? If you haven’t you had better get up some morning to see 
it, for that is just how the little boy’s face looked. And now you have 
guessed, of course, this boy’s name. There was only one boy in all 
Italy who looked like that, and that boy was Giuseppe. And now 
that we have been politely introduced to him, let us watch him and 
see what he will do. 

^‘Mr. Enrico,” he cried, ^‘please tell me about the factory you 
came from.” 

'‘Why, how do you know I came from a factory?” asked Enrico. 

“Because I heard you speaking about it to my father. Won’t you 
please tell me all about it?” 

Now that was a funny question for a little boy to ask, wasn’t 
it? What little boy ever knew all about a factory? But then, there 
are lots of things about it that little boys and girls ought to know, and 
that’s why I am going to tell you what Mr. Enrico told Giuseppe. 

“A factory,” he said, “is a big, stuffy room with lots of great, 
big wheels inside that always go a-buzzing like a million bees all at 
once. ’ ’ 

“Gee,” cried Giuseppe, “wouldn’t all that noise give you a head- 
ache ? ’ ’ 

“It sure does, it makes you feel awful sick and dizzy all the time,” 
answered Enrico, not being very careful about his grammar. 

And are there any people inside of the factory?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Sure,” said Enrico, “there must be people to run the wheels 
and make the things.” 

Now Giuseppe was a smart little boy, and what do you think he 
asked? He asked a very sensible question, and you will agree with 
me when I tell it to you. 

Listen, he said to Enrico. “If the noise in the factory is so 
awful that it makes you dizzy, then who works in the factory? I 


| 12 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


suppose it’s big. strong men who can’t get sick so easily?” 

'‘No, my little man,” said Enrico. "They’ve got all kinds of men 
working in the factories. Some are big and strong, and some are weak. 
And they’ve got women working there, too. Some of those women 
are too sick to stand up, but they haven’t any seats there to sit down 
on. All day long they’ve got to stand up at the machines that keep 
buzzing and buzzing, and they feel as if big hammers are banging all 
the time at their heads.” 

"That’s terrible, ain’t it, Mr. Enrico?” cried little Giuseppe, with 
his hands clenched. "But say, didn’t you tell my father that there are 
lots and lots of people who aren’t able to get work?” 

"Yes,” answered Enrico, puzzled, "but what has that got to do 
with my story?” 

" I ’ll tell you, ’ ’ answered Giuseppe, looking very important. ‘ ' Can 
the people in the factories do ’rithmetic?” 

"I think some can,” answered Enrico. 

"Well, then, listen,” said Giuseppe, "if there are weak and sick 
people that have to work in the factory all day long, and then there 
are lots of people who can’t get any work at all, why don’t the weak 
people work only half a day, and then the other people who are 
looking for work, could work the other half a day . . In that way the weak 
people could rest more and everybody would then have some work. 

"Dear me, I never thought of it,” said Enrico, scratching his head. 

"Say,” said Giuseppe, "what do the children do when their papas 
and mamas are working in the factories? I suppose they go with their 
nurse to the park or the theatre.” 

"You are very clever,” laughed Enrico, "but still you are a very 
silly child. Why, those children are too poor to have nurses or to go 
to the park or to the theatre.” 

"Then what do they do?” asked Giuseppe. 

"They also work in the factory,” answered Enrico. 

"What!” cried Giuseppe, "little children like me work in the 
factory? Don’t they get sick?” 

"Many of them do,” answered Enrico, sadly. 

"Do they have to work all day long?” asked Giuseppe. 

‘ ‘ Sure, ’ ’ answered Enrico, ‘ ‘ and they get up very early, too. ’ ’ 

"How early?” asked Giuseppe. 

"Some of them have to get up four o’clock in the morning,” 
answered Enrico. 

"Is it light then?” 

"No, it’s dark and cold and windy when they get up, and the 
sun isn ’t out yet, ’ ’ said Enrico. 

"Gee, ain’t they afraid to go when it’s dark?” 

"Of course they are.” 

"Then why do they do it?” 


| 13 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


“Because they have to,’^ said Enrico. 

“Who makes them do it?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Wicked people who want lots and lots of money, much more than 
they need,” answered Enrico. 

And then Giuseppe ^s little eyes glistened and his little fists were 
clenched and he cried, “Mr. Enrico, when I’m a man, I’m going to stop 
this ! ’ ’ 

“You’re a good little boy,” said Enrico, “and now run off and, 
play.” , 

Enrico went into the house to wash himself, /for he had worked 
all day. In about fifteen minutes he went out again, and what do you 
think he saw ? He saw. Giuseppe standing just as he had stood before, 
with his eyes flaming and his hands clenched. When he saw Enrico 
he said once more, “Mr. Enrico, when I’m a man, I’m going to stop 
this!” 


GIUSEPPE 


CHAPTER II 
GrosEPPE^s Games. 

Little Giuseppe was a poet. A poet is a man or a child with an 
imagination. An imagination is something which children possess much 
more frequently than men, for most men are too busy thinking about 
money and war to have an imagination. Let me tell you what an 
imagination can do for him who possesses it. Have you ever read in the 
fairy tales how the good fairy gives you a ring which makes you sed 
what is happening in Europe or in China? Well, nowadays rings are 
too expensive for fairies to be handing out to everybody, and so they 
give you imagination instead. It doesn’t cost you anything to get it, 
but gee, willikens, what can’t it do for you? Sometimes at night it 
lifts you up on a moonbeam where there are the souls of babies that} 
are going to be born next year. And do you know what they do up 
there? They play hide and seek among the stars. But that is a 
hard game to play, for the man in the moon is always watching and 
talking about the hiding-places of the little souls. And say, have you 
ever seen a falling star? Do you know what that is? When the 
moon tells on some soul that has had an especially good hiding-place, 
the little soul gets so angry that it snatches a star and hurls it at the 
moon. Then you see a falling star. One day a boy that I know saw* 
a sunshower, when suddenly imagination came to him and changed 
the drops of water into little candles with gold cloaks and purple flames. 
All the candles were bobbing up and down, and out of each flame there 
dropped a litle blue pigeon that spread its wings and suddenly changed 
into sailors marching through the streets. And some of these sailors 
came to a river and dipped their hands in it and threw the water into 
the air. And then all changed into the sunshower again. . . . And I’ve 
also known girls and boys and men and women with imagination 
that made them able to understand the language of the birds and 
waterfalls. Once there was a poet and his name was Shelley, One 
day Shelley allowed his imagination to lift him away up, and carry 
him like a great, big column of fire after the skylark. And the skylark 
rose higher and higher until he came to the gates of heaven. And 


| 15 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


Shelley followed him there and they both heard the music of the angels, 
and Shelley learned how to hear the flowers sing and he could see the 
colors of music. And when he came down again he taught it to every- 
body who was willing to listen to him. And once Shelley’s imagination 
lifted him up on top of a cloud, where he rode in the sky faster than 
the quickest airship. And after awhile he put his hand inside the 
dloud, and took out a handful of hail and snow. And as Jie /ode 
along on the cloud, he scattered the hail and snow all over the fields. 
Everybody thought he was a fool for doing this sort of thing instead 
of trying to make a lot of money, but nobody ever could guess how; 
much fun he was having. 

But then there is another kind of imagination, and that was the 
kind that Giuseppe had. This kind of imagination makes you look 
right through the walls of a house and see what is happening inside, 
and it makes you guess what everybody is thinking; aud sometimes, 
when you’re off in the country having a good time, imagination makes 
yorn think of the poor people in the city who can never have a good 
time like you. And when you are playing out in the sunshine, it makes 
you think of little boys who are shut up in mines, way, way down iii 
the earth, where it’s dark and cold and where the dust of the coal 
makes them cough. When you can see and think of everything and 
everybody like this, some call it Broadmindedness, and some call it. 
Nobility, and others call it Kind-Heartedness, but the real name for it 
is Imagination, and one that has it is called a Poet. And now at last 
you will be glad to come back to Giuseppe, and remember that he was 
a Poet, for otherwise he never would have done what he did and what 
I’m going to tell you about. 

Very often, in the middle of his play, Giuseppe would think of 
the poor little boys and girls who never had a chance to play. And do 
you know how Giuseppe played? He had the strangest games in the 
world. His father lived near the seashore, and very often Giuseppe 
would go down on the beach and collect all sorts of things there, and 
put them into a little bag. And when he was tired, he would sit down 
near the water and begin to play with the things he had picked up. 
First he would take a sea-shell and put it to his ear. And guess what 
he heard. He heard the voices of little children who worked in the 
factory, and he heard the buzzing of the wheels. And because he had 
imagination he could hear just what the children said. Let me tell 
you about one of the conversations that he heard when he was listen- 
ing to a sea-shell. A little boy, whose name was Emilio, was working 
at a machine. He was very, very tired, and he said to his sister, whose 
name was Anna, ^‘Gee, I wished I could rest a little!” And Anna 
answered, “You mustn’t, Emilio, ’cause the boss will hit you.” And 
then Emilio, after a while, would say again, “I don’t care, I got an 
awful headache an’ my feet hurt terrible. I’m goin’ to sit right down 

| 16 ] J 


GIUSEPPE 


on the floor. ^ ^ 

You see, he had to sit on the floor, because there were no seats in 
that factory. 

Then when Emilio sat down, Giuseppe could hear the boss who 
came and cried out to Emilio, “Hey, you lazy little Ginney, what are 
you loafing for?'’ And then the boss seized Emilio by the hair and 
pulled him back to the machine that was buzzing and buzzing until 
poor little Emilio could stand it no longer and fainted. Then Giu-^ 
seppe’s eyes would fill with tears and he would throw away the sea- 
shells and he would sit and stare at the sea. And soon the waves would 
begin to speak to him, and this is what they said: “Free those 
children, free those children, make them happy, make them happy!" 
And Giuseppe would answer, “I will! Just wait till I’m a big man!’’ 

Another favorite game of Giuseppe’s was this: His father, as I’ve 
told you, lived in the middle of a big garden. In this garden there 
were all sorts of trees. Some were tall and straight and looked just like 
rich men with stove-pipes and patent-leather boots who walk with canes 
to church every Sunday and who frown at you if you dare to come 
in their path; and some trees were small and crooked, and looked like 
old peddlers whose back is bent because they have to carry large packs 
on their shoulders. And often Giuseppe would sit down at the foot 
of those trees and listen to the wind as it spoke through the leaves, for 
you must remember that Giuseppe could understand the language of 
the wind. One day the wind said to Giuseppe, “Whisht, little boy, 
look at this tree and tell me what you see.’’ Giuseppe looked and he 
saw one of the tall, straight trees. And then he looked at its top and 
the branches were just like the strong arms of a man. And on each 
branch there were twigs just like bent fingers. And on each twig there 
was a golden fruit, just like a big, bright, gold coin. 

‘ ‘ Do you know what the name of this tree is ? ’ ’ asked the wind. 

“No,’’ said Giuseppe. 

“The name of this tree,’’ said the wind, “is Greed.’’ 

‘ ‘ Oh, my, ’ ’ said Giuseppe, ‘ ‘ isn ’t Greed a big and strong tree ! And 
it is full of gold fruits ! Can anything ever throw this tree down ? ’ ’ 

“Look, and you will see,’’ answered the wind. 

And the wind brushed aside a piece of the bark near the root of 
the tree, and what do you think Giuseppe saw? The whole inside of 
the tree was eaten up by worms and so rotten that it was a wonder how 
the tree could still stand up. 

“Now watch,’’ said the wind. 

Giuseppe watched, and the wind gave an enormous puff. And 
down fell the whole tree with a crash and the branches were smashed 
to bits, and the fruits were scattered and became decayed. 

Giuseppe clapped his hands when he saw this. “But tell me,’’ he 
said to the wind, “what is your name?’’ 


| 17 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


‘‘My name is Justice/’ said the wind. 

“Now wasn’t it funny,” said Giuseppe, “when you blew down the 
tree called Greed, the branches flew in all directions, but not a single 
piece of wood ever struck me.” 

“I’ll tell you why,” said the wind. “When Justice overthrows 
Greed, it never hurts good and honest men and boys.” 


| 18 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


CHAPTER III 
Giuseppe and the Sparrow 


Now these games of Giuseppe’s were very unusual games and the 
kind that you and I would never think of playing. But then, Giuseppe 
was a very unusual boy, and that is why he had such unusual games. 
And I’m sure that if your games were more like his you would pot 
only enjoy them more, but you would be greatly benefitted by them. 

But if you imagine that Giuseppe did nothing but play all the time 
you are very much mistaken. He was only ten years old, to be sure, 
and little boys of ten years ought to play much more than work. But 
Giuseppe often got tired of doing nothing, and so he sometimes helped 
Enrico to carry the fruits of his father’s garden among the farmers 
who lived nearby. One day Enrico felt ill; and, as there was no one 
else to go, Giuseppe had to carry a dozen oranges to an uncle of his 
who lived about two miles from his parents’ house. On his way back he 
sat down to rest in the midst of a large field. He was very tired and 
was almost falling asleep when he heard a number of boys shouting. 
He turned around and saw several of his acquaintances running after 
a little sparrow with a broken wing. One of the boys caught the spar- 
row and all began to amuse themselves by sticking pins into the poor 
little bird. Now Giuseppe was smaller than most of these boys, and as 
you remember, he was very, very tired. But he could not bear to see 
those bullies torture the sparrow, and so he went up to them and said : 

‘^You had better leave this bird alone. Aren’t you ashamed to be 
doing this sort of thing?” 

“Go away,” answered the oldest of the boys, “we ain’t doin’ no- 
thin’ to this bird.” 

“Aint you though?” cried Giuseppe. “You think it don’t hurt 
him to have bullies like you stick pins into him?” 

“ ’Course it don’t hurt him,” said the leader of the boys. “Don’t 
you know, little things like birds an’ insects an’ worms an’ such things 
can’t feel hurt the way me ’n you do when you try to stick pins into 
us.” 

“Sure they can’t,” cried some of his companions in chorus. 

| 19 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


‘‘Yes, they can,^^ cried Giuseppe. 

“Go on,” said one of the boys, “they can’t feel any pain because 
they’re so little, but we can feel pain because we’re big.” 

“Well,” said Giuseppe, “if a great, big elephant or a great big 
giant came and stepped on you, wouldn’t it hurt you?” 

“Sure,” cried all the boys and looked around, half afraid that a 
great, big elephant or a great, big giant was really running after them 
to step all over them and eat them up. 

“Well,” said Giuseppe, “if an elephant or a giant stepped on you, 
wouldn’t you look awfully small to him?” 

“Sure,” cried the boys. 

“You’d look just as small to the elephant or the giant as the bird 
looks to you, wouldn’t you?” said Giuseppe. 

“Of course,” said the boys. 

“But you’d feel the pain just the same, wouldn’t you,” said 
Giuseppe, “even though you’d look awfully small to the elephant or the 
giant.” 

“You bet,” cried the boys, and some of them began to rub their 
arms and legs, as if they were already feeling some pain there. 

“See,” said Giuseppe, “just because anything looks small doesn’t 
mean that you can’t make it feel terrible pains. So you had better 
leave this bird alone.” 

Now way down in their hearts the boys felt that Giuseppe was 
right. But most of them were thoughtless boys and they were deter- 
mined to torture the bird, though what enjoyment they could have 
gotten from hurting that poor sparrow, I’m sure I don’t know. Do 
you? Still, feeling that they were wrong, they began, as all bullies do, 
to make fun of Giuseppe. 

“Aw, you’re a sissy!” they cried, “ ’cause it’s only a girl or a 
sissy-boy that’s afraid to stick pins into a bird.” 

“I ain’t a sissy just because I’m kind-hearted,” said Giuseppe, 
“ and I’m going to prove to you that I ain’t afraid of any of you. I’m 
going to fight the biggest one here, and if I lick him, I ’m going to make 
you leave this sparrow alone 1” 

You see, Giuseppe was no coward, and you will always find that 
those who are kind-hearted are the bravest people in the world. 
Giuseppe fought the biggest boy among them and beat him, too, for 
that boy was really a coward at heart. And so the others stopped tor- 
menting the bird and cheered Giuseppe, for at heart they really admired 
him. Then he took the sparrow in his arms and wanted to bring it to 
his house where he could nurse it until it should be well again ; but the 
poor sparrow had been tortured so much that it died on the way. 

Now, while Giuseppe was going home, the cowardly boy whom he 
had beaten in the fight ran to Giuseppe’s father and told him that his 
little boy had hit him without having any reason for it. The father, on 

120 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


hearing this false story, became so angry that upon Giuseppe ^s return he 
not only scolded his poor little boy, but beat him before Giuseppe had a 
chance to tell him the true story. 


| 21 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


CHAPTER IV 

Giuseppe Meets the Mermaid. 


After Giuseppe had been scolded and beaten, he went down to the 
sea-shore and began to think. And he said to himself : ‘ ‘ Now why is it 
that all the boys make fun of me, and my papa beats me when I try 
to help the poor little bird?” And a sea-gull, swooping down under the 
water to catch a fish, cried to Giuseppe, “Karra, Karra,” I do not know, 
I do not know ! ’ ’ And the fish struggled, as if he wanted to say, ‘ ‘ But 
I know why, but I know why!” But, you see, the fish was dumb and 
so he could not tell what he knew. And then Giuseppe asked the sea- 
waves to tell him why, and out of the waves there came a voice thatl 
was as sweet as the voice of your mother when she sings you to sleep and 
the dreams forget to come to you, so enchanted are they by her honey- 
winged lullaby. And the voice said to Giuseppe : 

“My poor boy. I’ll tell you why you were beaten. It is because the 
world is always told a lot of falsehoods about all those that are good and 
brave and noble, and therefore people believe that the kind-hearted are 
wicked.” 

“Who are you?” cried Giuseppe astonished. 

“I’m a mermaid,” said the voice. And no sooner had she said 
this than up she rose out of the sea and swam to Giuseppe. Then she 
sat down beside him and said. “Do not be discouraged, my little man, 
for those who are noble never feel hurt when they are beaten, but go 
right ahead doing their kind deeds.” 

“How do you know?” asked Giuseppe. 

“I have watched them lots and lots of times,” answered the mer- 
maid. “And I have noticed that those who have the right on their side 
always win in the end.” 

“How do they win?” 

“By persisting in their goodness in spite of all the blows and the 
ridicule they get from others.” 

And then she patted him on the head and said, “Let me tell you a 
little story, Giuseppe, and then perhaps you will understand what I 
mean.” And she began to tell him her story. “My home,” she said. 


| 22 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


‘^is way down under the sea, where I live in a cave made of pearls and 
of corals. These are so beautiful and so dazzling that you people would 
get blind if you looked at them.” 

‘ ‘ Don T you get blind then 1 ’ ’ asked Giuseppe, 
surely would if I had eyes like yours.” 

‘‘What kind of eyes have you?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Look, and you will see,” said the mermaid. 

Giuseppe looked and then he noticed for the first time how beauti- 
ful her eyes were. Each eye was made of a big sapphire with a bright 
ruby in the middle. But her eyebrows puzzled him. He had never seen 
such eyebrows in his life. “What are these made out of?” he asked. 

“DonT you know?” said she. These eyebrows are made out of the 
blackness of the night. And this brings me back to my story. In the cave 
where I live my sisters and myself make the night out of the darkness 
at the bottom of the sea, and out of the pearls and corals in our cave' 
we make the stars. And when little boys like you are asleep, we give 
the night and the stars to the birds, and they hang them up over the 
sky.” 

“Amd what do you do in the day-time?” asked Giuseppe, becom- 
ing so interested in her story that he forgot all about his own trouble. 

“You donT expect us to work all the time, do you?” said the mer- 
maid impatiently. “In the day-time we sleep, of course.” 

“Oh,” cried Giuseppe, “now I understand why people hardly ever 
see you. ’ ’ 

“Sure, that's the reason,” said the mermaid. “But I wish you 
wouldn't interrupt so much.” 

“All right,” said Giuseppe, “I’ll try to keep still now.” 

“To continue with my story, then,” said the mermaid. “Once, 
while swimming at the bottom of the sea, I noticed divers searching for 
pearls and corals. They looked so poor and they worked so hard that 
I took pity on them and scattered gems in their path. Then I returned 
home and called my sisters to see what these people would do with the 
pearls. And we rose up to the surface of the sea and saw a big ship with 
hundreds of men on it putting the pearls into sacks. The ship set sail 
and we followed it. In a few days it stopped near a big city. And the 
sailors unloaded the pearls and took them to the house of a rich man and 
gave them to the owner of the house. And he took the pearls and 
cursed the men and threw to each one a few crumbs of bread for their 
pay. And these men took the bread and thanked him, and each went 
off to his home. My sisters and I followed one of them, who rowed down 
the river to a poor hut and entered it. Inside the hut there lived his 
wife whose eyes were as dull and as lifeless as the dying twilight when 
night is coming on. For she was anxious and tired with watching her 
sick child, who lay upon a hard bed and whose life was ebbing away 
jlike clear water from a golden bowl that is broken. And when the 


| 23 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


child saw his father, he smiled, and asked him for something to eat; and 
the father gave to his child the crumbs of bread thrown to him by the 
rich man in payment for the pearls he had given him. And the child 
ate the few crumbs of bread, but could not satisfy his hunger and so he 
asked for more. “I have no more,’’ said his father, ^‘for this is all that 
the rich man has given me for the pearls that I had gathered for him 
at the bottom of the sea.” 

“But the child asked his father, ‘Why, then, did you not keep your- 
self the pearls that you had worked for, and why did you give them to 
the rich man when he did not work for them ? ’ And the father answered. 

‘ I do not know why, but the rich man says we must give him all we have, 
or else he will punish us.’ 

“ ‘But that is not right, is it, father?’ asked the child. And the 
father did not answer, but bowed his head and began to think. 

“And then one of my mermaid sisters turned to me and said, 
‘Aren’t people foolish? They haven’t sense enough to understand that 
all they have to do is to get together and go to the rich man, and tell 
him, ‘Look here, Mr. Eich Man, we aren’t a-going to work any more for 
you and give you everything we make. We’ll just take those things and 
divide them up among ourselves. And if you want your share, you just 
roll up your sleeves and come along and work together with us !’ Why, 
then, the rich man would have to do it, wouldn’t he?’ 

‘ ‘ ‘ Surely, ’ I answered, ‘ for there are so many people who work that 
they can make the rich man do anything they want.’ 

“ ‘But they’re too foolish to understand it,’ said my sister. 

“The father must have overheard our conversation, for there were 
several large cracks in the wall, through which the cold wind carried our 
voices into the hut. He looked in our direction and said, ‘Why, I 
never thought of it! Haven’t we all been big fools to give everything 
away to the rich man while he sat around doing nothing and never gave 
us enough bread for our children!’ And then he got up and went 
out of the hut and entered his boat. And my sisters and myself followed 
him to see what he would do. And he went from house to house an^ 
told his comrades and acquaintances about the things that we had told 
him. At last the rich man became frightened when he heard about this. 
Of course, he had nothing to be frightened about, for all that the divers 
were going to do was to make him work. But he got terribly frightened 
just the same, and he gathered together a number of companions who 
had become powerful like himself through dishonesty. And these men 
began to throw mud at the divers wherever they went. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Is that all they tried to do ? ” asked Giuseppe. 

“No,” answered the mermaid. “Sometimes they threw stones. 
But, somehow, these stones never hit. Once in a while, to be sure, one 
of these stones would barely graze a diver’s head, causing just a little 
cut.” 


| 24 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


‘‘But why did they throw the stones?^’ asked Giuseppe. 

“For the same reason that the bully whom you have beaten for 
hurting the little sparrow went and told an untruth about you to your 
father and made him scold you and hit you.^^ 

“I don't mind it at all now," said Giuseppe, “and the next time 
this boy tries to hurt anything, I'm going to lick him again." 

“That's the right spirit, my boy," said the mermaid, patting 
Giuseppe on the head with her tail. “And that's the spirit that the 
divers showed. They didn't at all mind the mud and the stones that 
were thrown at them." 

“And did they throw back any mud or stones?" asked Giuseppe. 

“I'm surprised that you should ask such a question," said the 
mermaid reproachfully. ‘ ‘ A man who dives for pearls and corals never 
throws mud and stones." 

“Then what did they do?" asked Giuseppe. 

‘ ‘ They just refused to give the rich man anything unless he worked 
for it. And the working people won out in the end, too. And now," 
she continued, noticing that it was growing dark, “you had better go 
home, and think about what I have told you." 


| 25 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


CHAPTER V. 

Off to America. 

And Giuseppe went home and thought about all this, and never 
forgot the lesson that the mermaid had taught him. But now he became 
interested in something entirely new, for his parents decided to go to 
America and he spent all his time in thinking about the journey. At 
last his parents were ready, and Giuseppe, dressed up in a blue sailor- 
suit with red trimmings, went aboard the ship. His parents, being 
rich, travelled in the first class. Now most of you have never been 
first-class passengers on a ship and so I must tell you something about it.' 
If you are in the first class, you sleep in a pleasant room, and if you want 
anything, you just press a button in the wall and a servant brings you 
whatever you like. And when you get up in the morning, you go into a 
large dining-room with ever so many tables, each one covered with a 
snow-white table-cloth. And you sit down together with your papa and 
your mamma at one of the tables, where a plate and knife and fork and 
spoon are all ready waiting for you. Now, these knives and forks and 
spoons are all made of the prettiest silver and they are brighter than a 
mirror, so that you can see your whole face with your smooth hair and 
bright, clean collar in them. And in the middle of the table there 
stands a large pitcher of water. This pitcher is made of glass cut into 
the most beautiful shapes. And as you look into that pitcher you see 
all the colors of the rainbow changed into little fairies who dance waltzes 
and jigs and quadrilles, and you begin to wonder how they can keep it 
up all the time without getting tired. And then a colored waiter comes 
along, and his face and hands are washed so clean that they are as black 
as ink. And he brings you grape-fruit that makes your mouth water, 
and then he brings you muffins and lamb-chops and hot coffee with the 
whitest cream in the world. And he brings you many other things, but 
you don’t know what they are because they have such funny French 
names. At any rate, they taste so good that you don’t care about the 
names at all. Why, do you know, I really believe that the Emperor 
of Timbuctoo or the czar of the Fuji Empire never had a better break- 


126 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


fast. And while you are munching at a delicious bone of lamb that 
tastes almost as sweet as mother’s kiss, you cry out, ‘^Oh golly, ain’t this 
great!” But your mother says, “Hush, don’t make such a loud noise! 
It isn’t polite, you know.” 

After breakfast your mother takes you into the ladies’ room where 
everybody is playing “Bridge Whist.” That is an awfully dull game. 
All sit around a table throwing cards at one another, and every once in 
a while some old lady yawns and puts a round glass with a gold handle 
to one eye, (because the other eye is blind, I suppose) and says, “Aw 
really, now, what’s trump this time ?” And another old lady yawns, and 
answers, “Hearts is trumps.” Then a third old lady yawns and says, 
“I’ve got several hearts.” This lady is only joking, of course, for you 
look at all the people and you feel sure that there is not a single heart in 
the whole room. 

And then you go out on deck and you find a row of chairs and on 
' each chair you find a bundle of clothes with a head sticking out at the 
top. You think they are Egyptian mummies, but your father tells you 
that they’re seasick people taking an airing. 

But the best part of the day is the afternoon, for then you go into 
the gymnasium, where the boys and men tumble about and where the 
young men and the young women play tennis, and every little while one 
of them says, “Fifteen love.” And another says, “Thirty love.” And 
you wonder what in the world they want so many people to love for. 

After that you watch the races and the jumping and the wrestling 
and all that sort of thing. They put up high brass poles with a string 
across and some one tries to jump over the top of this string. But just 
then the ship makes a funny turn and the jumper falls thump on a soft 
mat. And my, goodness, how you laugh ! And then, when the fellows 
begin to race, they can’t run straight ahead, because the ship rolls just 
like a drunkard, and so they run along like ducklings whose mother 
has called them to take a bath. 

And sometimes at night your mother allows you to go into the 
ball-room where the ladies have dresses for which the tailor probably 
did not have enough cloth, for they begin at the bottom and stop long 
before they ever reach up to the necks. And the men have funny 
black coats cut short in the front and long in the back, so that you feel 
like taking hold of the tails and crying, ^ ‘ Giddap, horsey ! ’ ’ And these 
ladies and men dance and the orchestra plays and the drums beat rap- 
tap ; and whenever the ship rolls it makes boom-boom ! And the dancing 
couples bump together. And that’s the way it goes: rap-tap, boom- 
boom, bump, bump ! Oh, I tell you it’s fun to be a first-class passenger 
I on a ship ! And Giuseppe certainly enjoyed it. 

One day his mother told him that the passengers on the ship were 
I going to have a charity bazaar. “What is that ?” he asked, not repeating 
; the name for fear he might not be able to pronounce it. 


| 27 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


“A charity bazaar/^ said his mother, “is something the rich people 
have for the benefit of the poor.’^ 

“Something that the rich people have for the benefit of the poort 
’Taint prayers, is it, mamma?” 

“No, you silly,” laughed his mother. “Listen, and 111 explain. 
Rich girls make some pretty things, and at the bazaar they sell these 
things for a great deal of money, and then they give this money to the 
poor in charity. ’ ’ 

“What does it mean when you say, ‘they give money to the poor 
in charity?’ ” asked Giuseppe . 

“Why,” said his mother, “it means that the rich girl goes up to the 
poor girl and says to her, ‘ ‘ Hello, you. I ’m better than you, and I want 
you to know it. Get down on your knees now and don’t you dare to 
look up into my face, and if you are good, I ’ll throw you a few cents. ’ ’ 

“Gee,” said Giuseppe, “it must make the poor feel awfully bad to 
be treated that way.” 

“It does,” said his mother. 

“Tell me, ma,” said Giuseppe, “are the poor really worse people 
than the rich?” 

“No, my dear child,” answered his mother. “In most cases they 
are just as good as the rich and sometimes even better than the rich.” 

“Are there any poor people on this ship, mamma?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Of course there are,” she said. 

“Where do they stay?” he asked. 

“Why, below, in the steerage,” she said. 

“Mamma,” said Giuseppe, “is it as nice to live in the steerage as 
it is up here in the first class?” 

“Don’t ask me foolish questions,” she said, becoming impatient and 
going away. 

But Giuseppe was a boy who always wanted to learn things, and so 
he ran up to his father and said, “Papa, I wish you’d take me down to 
the steerage.” 

“What will you do there?” asked his father, laughing. 

‘ ‘ I want to see the poor people there, ’ ’ said Giuseppe. 

When his father heard this he became very angry, and said, “You’re 
a naughty boy. The steerage, where the poor passengers of this ship 
are living, is close and stuffy, and the poor people are ugly and dirty, 
and they have a bad smell, and when they speak, their voice is harsh, 
and they swear and say low things. And altogether they are so different 
from us that it is a disgrace for you even to go near them ! ’ ’ 


| 28 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


CHAPTER VI. 

Giuseppe and the Mermaid in the Steerage. 

When Giuseppe’s father told him how bad the poor people are, 
Giuseppe became frightened and decided not to go to the steerage. 
But that night, just as his father and his mother fell asleep in their 
stateroom, Giuseppe felt something brush him, and when he looked 
around, he saw two eyes made of sapphire with rubies in the middle. 
Do you know whom they belonged to ? Why, the mermaid, of course, — 
the same mermaid that he had met on the beach in Italy. 

‘ ‘ Hello ! ” he cried, ‘ ‘ How did you get here ? ’ ’ 

“Hush!” said the mermaid in a whisper. “ Look out or you’U 
waken your parents. Listen, and I will tell you. This afternoon ,while 
teaching a school of fishes, I heard you ask your father to take you down 
to the steerage, and I heard his answer. Now I want you to go there, for 
the people in the steerage are just as nice and just as good as you are, 
and you will learn a great deal if you go among them. I am going to 
take you down there. I would have come sooner, but I have not been 
able to dismiss my kindergarten class until now. I tell you those little 
fishes are a trial to me. I have the hardest time in the world to make 
them twirl their tails the right way. But now, thank Neptune, I’m 
through with them for the day, and so I can spare a few moments with 
you. Now get ready quickly and I will take you down into the steerage. 

Giuseppe dressed himself and the mermaid changed herself into a 
sailor and took Giuseppe and sat him down on her tail. Then together 
they jumped out of the window and swam over to the other side of the 
ship, and came to the entrance of the steerage. But the door was locked, 
for the captain didn’t want the people of the steerage to go out and min- 
gle with the rich passengers. When Giuseppe saw this, he said, “The 
poor people are kept just like in prison here, aren’t they?” 

“They surely are,” answered the mermaid. “I guess I’ll have to 
call some one to open the door.” And so she put the tip of her tail into 
her mouth and gave a shrill whistle. 

“Yo-ho,” cried the captain, “who’s there?” 

^ ‘ Ship a-hoy, and shiver my timbers, ’ ’ answered the mermaid. 


| 29 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


“That must be a sailor,’' said the captain to himself, “for only a 
sailor can talk that way.” 

“What do you want?” he said to the mermaid, and the mermaid 
sang out : 

“On the stormy sea, 

With yo-ho and ye-he, 

I come to the captain 
To ask for his key. ’ ’ 

“What do you want the key for?” asked the captain. 

“There’s a sick woman in the steerage, and I’m bringing her medi- 
cine. ’ ’ 

“All right,” said the captain, and he threw the key of the steerage 
to her. 

Wlien she got the key, she opened the door and went in together with 
Giuseppe. But no sooner had Giuseppe stepped into the steerage than 
he cried out, ‘ ‘ I want to go back ! ’ ’ 

“Why?” asked the mermaid. 

“Because it’s so stuffy here that I’m afraid I’ll choke, and it’s so 
dark, and I hear somebody moaning, and I’m afraid.” 

“Don’t be afraid,” said the mermaid, “it’s only the steerage.” 

“But why is it so stuffy here?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Wait till I make it light, and you will see.” Then she took the 
light of kindness from her heart and scattered it all over the room. And 
the room became as bright as day. Giuseppe looked about him, and this 
is what he saw. He saw a room with nine beds in it. Three were on the 
floor, three on top of them, and the last three were on top of these. On 
a nail near each bed hung a bundle of old and torn clothes. And on the 
floor there stood many pairs of shoes. There were all kinds of shoes there, 
big shoes and little shoes, old shoes and very old shoes, crooked shoes and 
torn shoes, but not a single pair of good shoes. 

“Why are these clothes and shoes so old and torn?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Because the people have no money with which to buy new and 
better clothes and shoes, ’ ’ answered the mermaid. ‘ ‘ But look ! ’ ’ 

Giuseppe looked again, and on each bed he saw sleeping people. 
Some beds had only one person in them, others had two, and one bed had 
three people in it. And there was only one little window in the whole 
room, so that Giuseppe now understood why the room was so close and 
stuffy. 

“Tell me, mermaid dear,” said Giuseppe, “won’t it make these peo- 
ple sick to sleep all together in such a small room with so little air in it ? ” 

‘ ‘ It does make them sick, ’ ’ said the mermaid. ‘ ' But look again. ’ ’ 

Giuseppe looked once more and on one of the beds he saw a pale 
woman and on each of her temples he saw a queer throbbing, and on each 


| 30 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


of her hands he saw blue veins like half-dried rivers flowing slowly 
through a hot and parched desert. The woman was asleep, but she was 
probably dreaming a sad dream, for now and then she muttered, ‘^Work 
till your strength is gone, but you never have enough bread to eat.’’ 
And in the cot above hers Giuseppe saw a little boy, about, his own age, 
tossing restlessly, for the bad air in the room did not allow him to sleep 
comfortably. Soon the little boy opened his eyes, and bending over the 
bed in which the woman was sleeping, he said in a soft voice, “Mamma.” 
Then, seeing that she was asleep, he lay down again and began to look 
over the room. Soon he saw Giuseppe and the mermaid who was her own 
self again, glistening with those sapphire and ruby eyes of hers. 

“How do you do?” said the boy in a sweet voice. “Who are you, 
and what are you doing here ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Say, ’ ’ said Giuseppe, forgetting in his surprise to answer the little 
boy’s question, “are you a poor boy?” 

“I am,” answered the boy. “But why do you ask?” 

‘ ‘ Because my father said that poor boys are ugly and dirty, and their 
voice is harsh, and they swear and they have a bad smell. But you can’t 
be poor, because your voice isn’t harsh, but sweeter than the sweetest 
jam I have ever tasted. And your face isn’t ugly and dirty, but cleaner 
and prettier than the apples that grow in my father’s orchard. Can the 
poor people be like that?” 

‘ ‘ Of course they can, ’ ’ said the little boy. 

“Then you’re just like us, aren’t you?” 

‘ ‘ I think so, ’ ’ answered the poor boy. 

“Tell me,” said Giuseppe, “supposing some one scratched you, 
would it hurt, just like a rich boy?” 

“Sure,” answered the boy. 

“And when you haven’t got enough to eat, do you feel hungry, just 
like a rich boy ? ’ ’ 

“You bet I do,” answered the poor boy, remembering many a time 
when he hadn’t had enough to eat. 

“And can you laugh like us, and cry like us?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Of course I can, ’ ’ said the boy. 

“Then what’s the difference between a rich boy and a poor boy?” 

“I think it’s the clothes they wear,” said the little boy. 

“I guess you’re right,” said Giuseppe, “and just because we see a 
little boy who hasn’t got such new and pretty clothes as we have, then we 
think that he isn’t as good as us. Say, do you know, after to-night I’m 
never going to think people bad just because they’re poor and have old 
clothes, and I’m never going to think people good just because they’re 
rich and have new clothes. ’ ’ 

“That’s right,” said the mermaid. “I told you that you’d learn a 
great deal by going into the steerage.” 

“ Oh ; ” cried Giuseppe, “ I ’ve thought of a good idea ! ’ ’ 


GIUSEPPE 


‘‘What is it?’’ asked the mermaid. 

“I’m going to get this boy all washed and dressed up in pretty 
things, and then I’ll take him to my papa and show him that the poor 
are just as good as the rich. ’ ’ 

“That’s a very good idea,” said the mermaid, “and I’ll tell you 
what I’ll do. I’ll go down to the bottom of the sea and borrow the 
clothes of one of Neptune’s pages and dress this boy in them. Mean- 
while you may talk to each other.” 

The mermaid left them and Giuseppe told the little boy all about 
the mermaid and how they had come to visit the steerage. Soon the 
mermaid returned with the finest clothes you ever saw. They were made 
of sea-green silk sewn together with a sunbeam that had once got lost in 
the sea. At the knees there were buckles made out of coral and silver 
and at the neck there was a collar made out of large golden fish-scales 
studded with pearls. And the shoes were made of beautiful sea-shells 
with the heels borrowed from Cinderella’s slippers. And there was a 
scarf, too, woven out of the golden hair of the mermaid’s sisters. And 
the mermaid took the little boy and washed him and combed him with 
her own golden comb and dressed him in these clothes. The day had 
already come by this time and Giuseppe took the little boy to his father’s 
state-room. The mermaid kept near them, but she was once more dis- 
guised as a sailor. 

Giuseppe’s father had not missed him, because he thought that Giu- 
seppe had gone out on deck, and so he was not at all surprised when the 
mermaid, disguised as a sailor, came back with him. But what he was 
surprised at was to see this strange boy with the wonderful clothes. 

“Why, who is this?” he cried. 

“Just look at him, pa!” said Giuseppe. 

“His face is fairer than coral stained with the juice of the prim- 
rose,” said his father. For, you see, coming from Italy, he was some- | 
what of a poet and therefore he could not help admiring beautiful things, j 
“And just hear his voice!” said Giuseppe, tickling the little boy,'i 
whereupon the latter burst into a ripple of laughter. j 

“His voice is sweeter than water gurgling through the pearly mouth j 
of a seashell, ’ ’ answered his father. i 

‘ ‘ He isn ’t dirty, is he ? ” said Giuseppe. ‘ ‘ And his voice isn ’t harsh, 
is it ? And now just smell of him, will you ? ” i 

“Now what in the world can be the matter with you?” cried his' 
father, wondering why Giuseppe should ask him to do such a foolish' 
thing. I 

“Do you know why I ask you to do it?” said Giuseppe. 

“No, I do not,” answered his father. | j 

“Then I’ll tell you,” said Giuseppe. “It’s because you said that ‘ 
poor boys are ugly and dirty and their voice is harsh, and they swear and I 

they have a bad smell, and I wanted to show you that it isn’t true.” | i 


[ 32 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


* ^ How did you show me that ? ’ ’ said his father. 

‘‘Why, I got this little boy in the steerage and brought him here.” 

‘ ‘ But where did you get the clothes ? ’ * asked his father. 

“The mermaid got it for us.” 

‘ ‘ The who ? ’ ’ asked his father. 

‘ ‘ The mermaid, ’ ' repeated Giuseppe. ‘ ‘ Why, haven ’t you ever seen 
her ? ’ ’ 

“I never have and I don’t believe there are any mermaids alive,” 
answered his father. 

Now that was very strange, for Giuseppe’s father certainly had 
seen the mermaid when he was a little boy. But men have a queer way 
of forgetting all the beautiful things that they have known when they 
were children. They will even tell you that the winds have never spoken 
to them and that the waves of the ocean have never called to them to come 
and play. But that is one of the punishments you have to bear when 
your heart is no longer young, but grown-up instead. 

When Giuseppe heard his father say that there are no such things as 
mermaids, he was quite angry, and turning to the mermaid who was at 
that very moment in the room with them, he said, “You show him then.” 

And then the sailor began to change into a mermaid again. The two 
legs grew together and were covered with little shells and scales, and the 
eyes were changed into two sapphires with rubies in the midst, and the 
hair was changed into a fine-spun wave of gold. But when Giuseppe ’s fa- 
ther saw this, he cried, “Quick, call the doctor; the sailor is becoming 
paralyzed ! ’ ’ 

“What’s the use of showing grown-ups anything?” said the mer- 
maid. “When a sailor changes into a mermaid, grown-ups say that the 
sailor is becoming paralyzed; and when a body changes into a soul, 
grown-ups say that a man is dying. Just have a good look at me. Do I 
look as if I ’m paralyzed ? ’ ’ 

“I can’t see,” said Giuseppe’s father, for a cinder has blown into 
my eye.” 

“The name of that cinder is False Science,” said the mermaid to 
Giuseppe. Then, turning again to his father, she said, “Well^ then, lis- 
ten to my voice. Do I talk as if I ’m a sick sailor ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I can ’t hear, ’ ’ said Giuseppe ’s father, for an insect has fiown into 
my ear. ’ ’ 

The name of that insect is False Logic,” said the mermaid. 

But Giuseppe ’s father was becoming a little ashamed for having been 
so stupid, and so he said, “Well, there’s one thing I do believe now.” 

“What is it?” asked the mermaid. 

“Now I know that the poor are just as good as the rich, if only ” 

“If only what?” asked Giuseppe. 

“If only they have enough to eat and drink and nice things to 
wear. ’ ’ 


| 33 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


‘ ‘ If you really believe that, ’ ’ said the mermaid, ‘ ‘ then I ’m sure that 
in a very short time the cinders and insects will come out of your eyes 
and ears and you will be able to see and hear everything properly.’’ 

^^Why, I can see and hear better already,” cried Giuseppe’s father; 
and, drawing the poor little boy to him, he kissed him and said, * ‘ I love 
you, because, poor though you are, you are my brother and Giuseppe’s 
brother.” 

And then a strange thing happened. The beutiful clothes of the 
poor boy changed into his old clothes, and his voice became harsh and 
his hair became tangled and unbrushed, and his toes began to peep out 
of his torn shoes. But Giuseppe’s father still held him. 

“Look at him now,” said the mermaid. “His face is dirty and his 
hair is uncombed.” 

“Now I can only see his lovely eyes and his pure heart,” answered 
the father. 

“And hear his voice now,” said the mermaid. “It is harsh and his 
words are rough. ’ ’ 

“But his thoughts are sweet and his feelings are pure,” answered 
the father. 

“And look how his ugly toes are peeping through his shoes,” said 
the mermaid. 

“All I can see now is his beautiful soul shining through his torn 
clothes. ’ ’ 

“If that is the case,” said the mermaid,” I think I had better go, 
for you need my help no longer.” and she plunged into the sea and was 
seen no more. 

“Now,” said the little boy, “I am going back to my mother.” 

“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” said Giuseppe’s father. “I’m go- 
ing to get your mother to live with us.” And he went out on deck and 
found Giuseppe’s mother and told her about his decision. She was, as 
you may well guess, very glad to hear this, as she had always been kind- 
hearted. And so the little boy’s mother was brought, and for the rest 
of the voyage she lived together with Giuseppe’s parents. 


134 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


CHAPTER VII 

Giuseppe Visits the Castle Garden. 

And now the ship was coming near the land and Giuseppe and his 
little friend saw the Statue of Liberty that seemed to stand there and 
say, ‘ ^ Come all into our land, for this is the land of the free ! ’ ’ 

And soon the ship came near the wharf where there was a big house 
that looked like a prison. 

“What is this?’^ asked Giuseppe. 

“This,’' said his father, “is the Castle Garden.” 

And then Giuseppe heard strange cries coming out of the Castle 
Garden and he asked his father about it. 

‘ ‘ These cries, ’ ’ said his father, ‘ ‘ are the cries of the immigrants who 
are to be sent back.” 

“What does that mean?” asked Giuseppe. 

“It means that this country doesn’t want all the people who come 
here, and so the Americans send a great many people back. ’ ’ 

When Giuseppe’s little friend heard this, he asked, “Why doesn’t 
this country want all the people who come here ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Because the Americans think that some people are not good enough 
for them. ’ ’ 

And then Giuseppe, just as usual, asked a very sensible question. 
“If the people are not good enough for America,” he asked, “then what 
place are they good enough for? Isn’t one country just as good as an- 
other?” 

“Well, that’s a big question,” laughed his mother, “and I’m not at 
all sure whether I ’ll be able to make you understand my answer, for even 
most grown-ups understand very little about it. The Americans imag- 
ine that their country is the best and that no people from other countries 
are good enough for them, and the Italians think that their country is the 
best, and the Germans think that theirs is the best, and that’s the way 
it goes.” 

“But which country is, really and truly, the best?” asked Giuseppe’s 
friend. 

“I’ll tell you,” said his mother. “Whatever country has a man 


135 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


or woman with a kind heart, that country is the best.’^ 

‘ ‘ But every country has people with kind hearts, * ^ said Giuseppe. 

“Yes, indeed, said his father. 

“Well,” said Giuseppe, “then every country is just as good as 
every other country, isn’t it?” 

^ ‘ I think so, ’ ’ said his father. 

“Then every country ought to allow everybody to come into it, 
oughtn’t it? 

‘ ‘ I think so, ’ ’ said his father. 

“And the people of one country ought to be the brothers of the 
people of all other countries, oughtn’t they?” 

“They surely ought,” said his mother. 

And when they finished speaking about this, Giuseppe suddenly got 
it into his head to make another one of his strange visits. And guess 
where he wanted to go now. He wanted to go and see the people that 
were going to be sent back to Europe. But this time the mermaid could 
not come to help him, for she was now busy taking an engineer over a 
course at the bottom of the sea where he wanted to build an enormous 
pipe to take the hot sea- water from near the equator to the cold countries. 
In that way there would be no more winter in the cold countries. For 
an engineer can do most wonderful things with the help of the mermaid. 
Now, however, Giuseppe was just a bit sorry for it, for he needed the 
mermaid very much. He was wondering what to do, when the mermaid 
called him up. Now how do you think she called him up ? When your 
papa wants to call somebody up, he uses the telephone. And when you 
want to say something to somebody in Europe, you use the telegraph. 
But the mermaid had neither telephone nor telegraph, and so she called 
Giuseppe up by using telepathy. Now telepathy, to be sure, is something 
you can’t always use, but when you do, it is just as good as a telephone or 
a telegraph. 

‘ ‘ Hello, ’ ’ said the mermaid over the wireless telepathy. 

“Hello,” answered Giuseppe, “I wish you would come here, for I 
want you to take me to the Castle Garden. ’ ’ 

“I’m very sorry,” said the mermaid, “but I’m too busy just now.” 

“Oh,” cried Giuseppe, “isn’t that too bad!” 

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said the mermaid. “In the Hudson 
River I have a sister whose name is Naiad. She is generally busy playing 
tennis with the crew of Henrik Hudson. You know who they are, don’t 
you? They are the people who played at nine-pins with Rip Van Winkle 
and made him sleep for twenty years. But wait a moment ; I’ll call her 
up and see whether she’s at leisure now.” 

The mermaid called up the Naiad on the Hudson River Telepathy. 
Her number was All-4-1. ‘ ‘ Hello, ’ ’ she said. 

“Hello,” came back in a sleepy voice. 

“Listen, Naiad dear. I want you take a little boy to Castle Garden 


| 36 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


and show him the place. ’ ^ 

“I’m very tired, ’ ’ answered the Naiad, ‘ ‘ for last night I attended a 
reception on the surface of the river and I danced with the waves all 
the way from Hoboken to Niagara Falls. But still. I’ll go with your 
little boy, for I love boys.” 

And the Naiad rose on a mist that was coming up from the river, 
and she sat herself on the back of the South Wind, and quicker than you 
can say, “Mount Popocatapetl, ” she stood before Giuseppe. 

“Are you the little boy who wants to go to the Castle Garden?” she 
asked. 

‘ ‘ Yes, ma ’am, ’ ’ he said. ‘ ‘ And are you the Naiad who is going to take 
me there ? ’ ’ 

“Yes,” she answered. “Are you ready to start?” 

^ ‘ Sure ! ” he cried, forgetting that he was speaking to a lady. 

“Well, then, let’s start,” she said. 

Giuseppe ’s parents were busy with their baggage, and so they never 
noticed that he went away. 

Soon Giuseppe and the Naiad came to the Castle Garden, and of 
course nobody stopped them, for the Naiad was so beautiful. Her dress 
was made of the clouds of the morning, embroidered by the threads of the 
rising sun, and the sandals on her milk-white feet were woven out of the 
rainbow, and the cap on her head was made of sea-weed intertwined with 
the silvery hairs of Rip Van Winkle. And her cheeks were red and her 
teeth were white and her eyes were blue ; for, you see, being an American 
Naiad, she was patriotic. So it is no wonder that nobody stopped her. 

‘ ‘ I wish to see the people who are going to be sent back, ’ ’ she said. 

“Certainly, ma’am,” said the officer. And he opened an iron door 
and Giuseppe and the Naiad went into a small room where they saw an 
old man crying. 

“What are you crying for?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Because they are going to send me back,” said the old man. 

“Aren’t you glad to go home?” asked Giuseppe. 

“I have no home to go to,” said the old man. “I live in a country 
where the king makes the people kill us.” 

‘ ^ Why do the people do it ? ” asked Giuseppe. * ‘ Do they hate you ? ’ ’ 

“No, they do not,” answered the old man. “They are nice people 
and they like us, but the king never educates them and he tells them false 
things about us and he makes them believe that we mean to do them harm. 
And then he gives them strong drinks that take their senses away from 
them and make them act like wild animals instead of men. And then 
these people kill us and our wives and children.” 

“Is that why you went away from your country?” asked Giuseppe. 

‘ ‘ Yes, ’ ’ answered the old man. ^ ^ The people killed my son and burnt 
my house ; and so I came to America where I have a brother.” 

“Then why don’t you go to him?” asked Giuseppe. 


| 37 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


Because they wouldn’t let me,” said the old man. 

"‘Who is theyV^ asked Giuseppe. 

“I don’t know,” answered the old man. “When I came here, they 
said I am too old, and a dirty foreigner, and this country doesn’t want 
to be bothered with men like me. And so they are going to send me 
back. ’ ’ 

“But what’s going to become of you?” asked Giuseppe. “They’ve 
burnt your house and they will kill you like your son. ’ ’ 

The old man did not answer, but bowed down his head and looked 
very sad. And little Giuseppe could not bear to see this, and he cried 
out, “It’s a mean shame not to let you come into this country and it’s 
a mean shame not to let everybody come into this country. If God thinks 
anyone good enough to come into this world, then we ought to think him 
good enough to come into this country. Isn’t it so. Naiad dear?” he 
said, turning to her. 

“It certainly is,” said she, “but that is not the way most men see 

it.” 

“Then they are blind, and somebody ought to make them see right,” 
said Giuseppe. 

‘ ‘ There are some people who try to make us see things right, ’ ’ said 
the Naiad, “but nobody listens to them.” 

‘ ‘ My goodness, ’ ’ cried Giuseppe, ‘ * aren ’t people funny ! ’ ’ 

“Yes they are,” said the Naiad, “and that’s why I decided to be 
a Naiad instead of a human being when the Voice asked me to choose.” 

“What is the Voice, and what did it ask you, and when was it, and 
tell me the whole story anyhow,” cried Giuseppe eagerly, forgetting all 
about Castle Garden. 

“I won’t tell you now, because you mustn’t know too much at once/’ 
she answered. “And, besides, if I begin to tell you my story, I’m afraid 
we’U be too late and your parents will be gone when we come out again.” 

“Oh,” cried Giuseppe, disappointed. “Then promise me you’ll tell 
it to me some other time. ’ ’ 

“Yes, I will,” she said. “But let us go now.” 

They went to the door to open it, but found it locked. The Naiad 
knocked loudly, but no one came to open it. Giuseppe became alarmed, 
for he was anxious to get back to his parents. “I wonder where the 
watchman can have gone to, ’ ’ he said. 

I think I know,” answered the Naiad. “When I was coming here, 
I heard everybody talk about the championship baseball game that the 
Giants and the Red Sox were going to play to-day. Now I am pretty sure 
that the watchman has gone to see that baseball game.” 

“What is a baseball game?” asked Giuseppe. 

‘ ‘ Why, don ’t you know ? ’ ’ asked the Naiad. But then, remembering 
that Giuseppe had just come from Italy, she added, “Oh I beg your 
pardon. I forgot that you have never lived in New York. Well, let me 


138 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


tell you about it. A baseball game is a game in which you hit a ball 
with a stick and somebody tries to catch it.^^ 

“What, the stick, or the ball?” asked Giuseppe. 

“How stupid of you to ask this,” said the Naiad. “Why the ball, 
of course. And then they catch it, and they throw it, and everybody 
runs and everybody hollers, “A home run, kill the umpire, good for you, 
rotten, hooray, punk, you’re a bonehead, you’re another, three cheers for 
the United States!” 

‘ ‘ It must be a nice game, ’ ’ said Giuseppe. 

“Yes, it is,” said the Naiad, “but the trouble is that people think 
too much of it. They’d rather see their own side win than save some- 
body from dying of hunger. I think that the watchman thinks more of 
baseball than he does of all the poor people who are going to be sent 
back to Europe from the Castle Garden. Now wasn’t it thoughtless of 
him to go off and leave us here?” 

“It surely was, ’’said Giuseppe. “And how are we ever to get out 
of here?” 

“Let me think,” said the Naiad, “ and don’t interrupt me until I’m 
ready. ’ ’ 

She thought very hard for a few minutes and then she said, “I’ve 
got it!” 

“What is it?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Look,” she said. “Do you see this pitcher of water?” 

“Yes,” he said, “but what are you going to do with it?” 

“I’m going to change you and myself into water and we’ll get into 
the pitcher.” 

“And what will happen then?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Then we’ll ask this man to spill us through the window into the 
harbor. ’ ’ 

“And what will we do after that?” asked Giuseppe. 

“After that,” said the Naiad, “I shall return to the Hudson Eiver 
and you will go back to your parents.” 

“Won’t that be great!” cried Giuseppe, trying to imagine how it 
would feel to be changed into water. But suddenly he became frightened 
and said. “But what will become of me after I’m changed into water?” 

“Why said the Naiad, “you’ll be changed into Giuseppe again.” 

“I’m afraid to keep changing that way,” said Giuseppe. 

^ ‘ There ’s nothing to be afraid of, ’ ’ laughed the Naiad. ‘ ‘ Everything 
is always changing from one thing to another. Don’t you know that?” 

“Yes,” said Giuseppe, remembering that his teacher had once told 
him how water changes into steam and then the steam goes up to the 
clouds and the clouds change back again into water. * ‘ I can understand 
how I can be changed into water and then back again into Giuseppe. But 
what is to become of me ? ” 

“What do you mean by me ?” asked the Naiad. 


| 39 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


“Don’t you know?” said Giuseppe. “I don’t mean my hands or 
my feet or my body, but I mean me, myself. ’ ’ 

“ Oh, I see, ’ ’ said the Naiad. ‘ ‘ You mean your soul. ’ ’ 

“Yes,” said Giuseppe, “I think that’s what I mean.” 

“Now, look here,” said the Naiad angrily, “I’ve lived in the river 
all my life and I ought to know. Let me tell you that a drop of water 
has a soul just as well as you and I.” 

“Then me and water are cousins, ain’t we?” said Giuseppe, for- 
getting in his excitement his grammar, a thing which, as we know, he 
very rarely did. 

“You can put it that way if you want to,” said the Naiad. “But 
let us hurry and get out of here.” 

“All right, I’m ready,” said Giuseppe. 

“Come on then,” said the Naiad. And Giuseppe felt wet drops on 
his forehead. 

“You had better bend over the pitcher,” advised the Naiad, “or 
else some part of you is liable to be left here.” 

Giuseppe did as he was told and very soon nothing was left of him 
but silvery drops of water that gurgled and bubbled within the pitcher. 

‘ * What are you giggling for ? ’ ’ asked the Naiad. 

“I’m not giggling, ’ ’ said Giuseppe, highly insulted. ‘ ‘ Only boys and 
girls giggle, but I ’m water now, and I want you to understand that water 
isn’t vulgar enough to giggle. Water gurgles.^ ^ 

‘ ‘ Then what are you gurgling for ? ’ ’ asked the Naiad. 

“I’m gurgling because it’s nice to be water,” said Giuseppe. “You 
feel so cool, and you’re never thirsty.” 

“I’m glad you like it,” said the Naiad, and changed herself into 
water. And then they asked the old man to spill them out into the harbor. 
“Mind,” said she, “and don’t spill any of us here in the room.” 

The old man spilled them into the harbor and they quickly changed 
themselves into the Naiad and Giuseppe again. But Giuseppe found that 
one of the buttons in his coat was missing. “I wonder what has become 
of it ? ” said he. 

“You must have allowed some part of yourself to spill on the floor,” 
said the Naiad. “I told you to be careful. But you ought to be glad 
that it’s only a button and that you did not leave a hand or a leg or part 
of your nose. Now you’ll have to do without that button. Well, I must 
be going now. Good bye.” 

“Good bye,” said Giuseppe. “Bemember to come back some day 
and tell me your story, won’t you?” 

“Surely,” she said, and she was gone, leaving Giuseppe on the wharf. 
He quickly returned to the baggage-room and found that his parents were 
still busy with their baggage and so had never noticed his absence But 
Giuseppe could not find the lady and her little boy who had lived with 
them during part of their voyage. 


| 40 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


Where are they gone to?^’ he asked. 

‘‘They are going to be sent back to Italy/ ^ said the father. 

“But why don’t they change themselves into water?” cried Giu- 
seppe, forgetting that the Naiad was already gone and therefore could 
not help them. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said his father. 
“Can’t we make them let these people come in?” 

“I’m afraid not,” said his father. 

“Then I’m going to do something about it.” 

“You cannot do anything now, dear,” said his mother sadly. 
“Why?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Because you’re only a little boy.” 

“Well, then, wait till I’m a man!” cried Giuseppe. 

‘ ‘ But when boys become men, ’ ’ sighed his mother, ‘ ‘ they no longer 
eare to do those things that will help others.” 

“Then I’ll be different,” said Giuseppe. 

“Let us wait and see,” said his mother, kissing him. 


141 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


CHAPTER VIII. 
The Strike. 


And now we shall have to skip a great many years until Giuseppe 
grows to he a man. He has gone through high school and college and 
he has learned a few things that he ought to know and perhaps a great 
many things that he ought not to know, but he has never forgotten about 
the mermaid and the Naiad. And they, on their part, have never for- 
gotten about him. One day, they took a girl who was two years 
younger than Giuseppe and they breathed over her the breath of the 
sea and the breath of the river. And over her face they scattered a 
light woven of moonbeams and the color of the rose. And in her heart 
they poured the song of the lark and the plashing of the waves. And 
when people saw her then, they called her no longer by name, but ‘ ‘ The 
Beloved One.” And they sent her to Giuseppe, who was now twenty- 
two years old. And when Giuseppe saw her, his face became red as 
the wing of a wounded dove, and a pain that was sweet and a gladness 
that was tearful came over him, and he said to her, “I love you.” 

“What does that mean?” she asked him. 

“It means,” he said, “that I have always been looking for you, 
although I have never known you.” 

“That is strange,” said she, “for I, too, have always been look- 
ing for you, although I have never known you.” 

“Then that,” he said, “means that you love me.” 

And then they said many things to one another that to them must 
have meant something, for otherwise they never would have said them. 
But you and I could never understand them, and so I will not tell them 
to you. And very soon Giuseppe and “The Beloved One” were married 
and were so happy that for a time they forgot about the poor and the 
unhappy. But Giuseppe and “The Beloved One” were too kind to 
live without thinking of others for a long time, and very .soon Giuseppe 
had a chance to keep the promise that he had so often made as a little 
boy, when he had said, “When I’m a man. I’ll do something to make 
others happy !” At that time, you remember, he had suffered for trying 
to help the weak and those that were unable to help themselves. And 


| 42 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


now he was to suffer again, and much more bitterly this time, for being 
kind. It happened in this way. Giuseppe was the editor of a news- 
paper, and one day there was a strike of miners in a near-by city. 
Giuseppe came there to get the news of the strike, and he went into 
|the house of one of the strikers. This man had six children, one of 
whom was blind. 

‘ ‘ Can this child never be cured of his blindness ? ’ ’ asked Giuseppe. 

“He can,” said the father, “for a doctor told me so.” 

“Then why do you not get him cured?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Because I haven’t the money to pay for it,” answered the father. 

And then the blind little boy cried as if his heart would break, 
and he said, “My pla 3 unates tell me about the green trees and the white 
and pink blossoms and the blue sky and the golden stars, but I cannot 
see them, for everything is dark to me.” 

And Giuseppe said to his father, “But why haven’t you enough 
money to cure this boy?” 

And the father answered, “I do not get paid enough in the mine 
even for my food and rent. How then can I get the money to cure my 
blind child?” 

And the child cried again and said, “My brothers and sisters 
tell me how my mother’s eyes are brighter than the morning star when 
she looks at me, and how all the colors of the rainbow are hidden in her 
tears when she weeps over me. But all is black to me, for I cannot see 
them. ’ ’ 

And Giuseppe left them and went to the house of another striker. 
This man’s wife was lying in bed and coughing. And when Giuseppe 
asked the man why he was striking, the man said, “Because 1 have not 
money enough to send my wife to a place where she can have fresh air 
and good food.” 

And Giuseppe said, “What is the matter with your wife?” 

And the husband answered, “The doctor says she is ill with <-he 
plague of the poor.” 

“What is that?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Consumption,” answered the husband. 

And as they were talking there came into the house three people. 
One was a doctor, the other was a priest, and the third was the landlord 
of the house. And the doctor looked at the sick woman and said, “You 
must have fresh milk and butter and eggs every day, and you must 
live in the country, or else you will die.” 

“But I have no money to buy those things,” said the husband. 

“That’s none of my business,” said the doctor. “She musl have 
all these things, or else she will die.” 

“You’re talking nonsense,” said Giuseppe to the doctor. 

And then the priest said to the sick woman, “Do not ask for eggs 
and milk and butter, and do not try to live in the country, for it is 


143 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


God’s will that you shall be poor and suffering.” 

“This is not true,” said Giuseppe to the priest. 

And then the landlord said, ‘ ‘ I don ’t care for eggs or milk or butter 
or fresh air or God. All I want is rent, and if you can’t pay it at once. 
I’ll put you out into the street.” 

“This is mean and heartless,” said Giuseppe. And he left them 
and went to the house of the rich owner of the mine in which the men 
were striking. 

When he came to this house and rang the bell, the door was opened 
by a man who had gold buttons on his coat and looked as stiff as an 
icicle on a cold day. 

“Who are you?” he asked Giuseppe. 

“I am a newspaper editor and I wish to see your master about 
the strike,” answered Giuseppe. 

“My master is at a banquet now,” said the servant. “He and some 
of his friends have invited the governor to tell him how rich this coun- 
try is, and they are all now eating and drinking and having a good time 
over it.” 

“But look here,” said Giuseppe. “This country can’t be rich when 
there are millions of people in it who are poor and hungry and who 
haven’t clothes to keep them warm in winter.” 

“My master says that we oughtn’t to bother about them, because 
they belong to the lower classes. I don’t know what that means, but 
then, my master must be right, for he is rich, and whatever a rich man 
says must be right.” 

“That is not so,” said Giuseppe, “for very often a poor man is 
much more right than a rich man.” 

“I’m sure I don’t understand you,” said the servant, bowing stiffly 
like a half-closed jack-knife and then straightening up again as if it 
hurt his back to bow. “You will have to tell that to my master, for I 
am only a servant, and servants, you know, must not have minds of 
their own.” 

And Giuseppe left the house and walked slowly through the 
grounds, for all around the house there was a park bigger than the 
Boston Public Garden. It was full of all kinds of trees and flowers, but 
somehow it did not look beautiful to Giuseppe, for he could understand 
the language of the flowers, and this is what they said to one another: 

“I feel stifled here,” said a pansy, “for I know that I am painted 
with the colors stolen from the joys of the poor.” 

“And I,” answered a peony who stood near-by, “blush for shame 
whenever I think how I came to have such bright petals. I can still 
remember how I once lived on the cheek of a beautiful girl who lived 
in an old house and had to work in a mill. And oh, I can tell you she 
sweated and sweated as she worked. And every drop of sweat took 
away some of the healthy glow in her cheek and fell upon the cloth she 


144 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


was weaving. At last all the poor girl’s color was gone and she died, 
and the owner of the mill sold the cloth, and with the money he got 
for it, he bought seeds and sent them to his friend who is our master. 
And our master planted those seeds in this garden and I grew out of 
somojof them. That is why I am so red, for I am made of the red 
cheeks of the poor girl who died in the mill.” 

“And I,” said a violet, “have often wished that I could die, for 
I remember how little right I have to be here. My mother lived in a 
broken pot that stood on the window-sill of a tenement-house, where 
the air was bad and where the sky could hardly be seen. But she was 
very happy there, far happier than I am here, for in that house there 
lived a beautiful girl who loved my mother-violet. And so my mother 
grew more lovely from day to day until there was nothing in the world 
more beautiful than that violet except the eyes of the girl who lived in 
the house. And very often she came and bent over her and wept, 
saying, “I cannot marry my love, for we are too poor.” But then my 
mother would look so sweetly and so brightly at her that the girl’s heart 
would become happy again, and she would sing as joyfully as birds 
in the morning. But one day there was hardly anything to eat in the 
house, and so i the poor girl had to take my mother together with many 
other flowers and sell them to the rich man who lives here. And that 
is how I came to grow here instead of where I ought to grow, in the 
house of the girl where I could cheer her. And I do not know what 
has become of her or her lover.” 

“I know,” said a rose, “for I am made of the blood that flowed 
in her lover’s heart. He used to tend this garden before you came here, 
and one day he was found dead, and in that very place I am now grow- 
ing.” 

“It is an outrage,” cried all the flowers in chorus, “it is a down- 
right shame how the rich treat the poor. I do not see why we should 
look so nice and bright for the owner of this garden. He never cares 
for us, for he is always thinking of how to make money.” 

‘Yes,” said a tulip,“ whenever his wife plucks some of us for her 
dining table, it is not because she loves us, but because she thinks it 
is fashionable to have flowers on rich tables. Why, I’ve noticed that 
she pays more attention to her gold and diamonds which are only life- 
less metal and stone, than she does to us who are full of perfume and 
of life.” 

“I sometimes think,” remarked the violet, “that most rich people 
do not care for flowers. ’ ’ 

“Why, what makes you think that?” asked all the flowers. 

“Because, if they loved flowers, they would also love their fellow- 

men-/’ 

Thereupon a talkative old oak-tree who had up to this time been 
conversing with the East Wind about the weather, bowed some of his 


| 45 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


branches down toward the flowers and said, “Look here, my little 
many-colored friends, it is true that the rich do not care for their fellow- 
men, especially the poor, but that is not because the rich are wicked/^ 

‘ ‘ Then why is it ? ’ ’asked the flowers. 

“It’s because they are so busy making money, that they are 
thoughtless about everything else.” 

“Then what is the remedy?” asked the flowers. 

And then the tree muttered something and laughed. 

“What did he say?” asked the tulip. 

“What did he say?” asked the rose. 

“What did he say?” asked all the flowers. 

But none of them knew just what the tree had said. Some thought 

that the word that the tree had uttered ended in “ ism,” but they 

were not at all sure of it. Just exactly what the word was only the 
tree and perhaps the wind knew. 

And then Giuseppe left them and went past the garage where the 
mine-owner kept his automobiles, and Giuseppe began to count them. 
But when he got to number fifty a chauffeur came and closed the garage. 

“Why does your master need fifty automobiles?” asked Giuseppe. 

“Well, it’s this way,” answered the chauffeur. “There are seven 
days in the week and each day he goes out in his automobiles three 
times, and each time he goes out he needs a new automobile.” 

“But that makes only twenty-one,” said Giuseppe, “and I’ve 
counted just now at least fifty myself. ’ ’ 

“Well,” said the chauffeur, “his wife must have several for her- 
self, and his children must have a few, too. ’ ’ 

“But still,” said Giuseppe, “he doesn’t need over fifty, does he?” 

“Why, he has a few for his friends who come to visit him. And 
besides, he has a favorite bulldog, and that bulldog is very particular 
about having an auto all to himself. I’m the dog’s chauffeur, and so 
I ought to now.” 

“What!” cried Giuseppe, “this man has an automobile for a dog, 
and doesn’t care to give enough bread for the men and women and 
children who work for him!” 

And Giuseppe left the place determined to do something that would 
make everybody see the injustice and wickedness of this. 


| 46 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


CHAPTER IX. 

The Workingmen Parade. 

For many days Giuseppe and the strikers tried to make the mine- 
owner understand how hard they were working and how hungry they 
were, but the mine-owner would not listen to them. And the summer 
passed away and the leaves fell from the trees and many of the children 
of the strikers died, and still the mine-owner di^ not understand them, 
and hired soldiers who tried to force the strikers to go back to work. 
But they would not go to work unless the mine-owner should promise 
them enough pay to buy food and clothes for their wives and children. 

And soon the winter came and the wind gathered in his arms all 
the sicknesses from the darkest caves and blew them into the miners^ 
houses. And the miners had no coal with which to make a fire, and so 
the wind loved to linger in their houses and play hide and seek in and 
out of the holes of their torn clothes. If you have ever seen a (poor 
man^s torn clothes on a winter’s day you will realize what a great place 
they are for the wind to play in. And so it was no wonder that a great 
many of them died. 

At last the strikers lost heart and came to Giuseppe and asked him 
what to do. 

“I’ll tell you what to do,” said Giuseppe. “Tomorrow morning, 
before the sun rises, I want you all to gather together on the Common 
and march through the city, and when the people see how brave you 
are they will be on your side, and when all the people are with you, 
then you will surely win the strike.” 

The wind heard this and laughed to himself, saying, “We shall 
see!” And he gathered all the snowfiakes from the North Pole and 
began to whip them until they grew so frightened that they fiew in all 
directions over the city of the miners. And when the miners awoke 
before the rising of the sun, it was so cold that it nipped their fingers 
and made their teeth chatter. But they did not mind it, for they were 
determined to march. And when they had gathered on the Common, 
the sun peeped up from the night and wondered who they were and 
what they were doing there so early. 


|47] 


GIUSEPPE 


“Who are they?” asked the sun of a milkmaid who was returning 
with a pail of milk from the milky way. 

“I’m sure I don’t know,” said the milkmaid. “I’ve never seen the 
like of this before. I’ve often seen armies of soldiers going to kill be- 
fore sunrise, and lately I’ve also seen little children going to work be- 
fore sunrise, but I’ve never yet seen a cold and hungry army of work- 
ingmen marching through the streets before sunrise.” 

“They look so earnest,” said the sun, “and their leader looks so 
noble that I’m going to cheer them up as much as I can.” 

“You had better not bother about them,” said the milkmaid. 
“I’ve heard they are foreigners and ignorant.” 

“Nobody who lives beneath the sun is a foreigner, and nobody 
whose heart allows the sunlight to enter it is ignorant.” 

So saying, the sun shot a thousand fiery arrows into the clouds and 
they disappeared, and the light of the sun was as lovely as the jfirst 
smile on the lips of a babe. And when Giuseppe saw this, he turned 
to the people and said, ‘ ‘ Do you see the sun ? Soon our lives shall be as 
bright, for we shall win our strike ! ’ ’ 

And when the people heard him, they forgot about the cold, and 
they forgot about their hunger and their ragged clothes, but stood 
silent, with tears of joy in their eyes, gazing at Giuseppe. And the sun 
flooded all the sky with golden light and cast his rays over Giuseppe and 
the laborers and turned their tears into diamonds. 

But one of the sun’s rays found its way into the bedroom where 
the rich mine-owner was sleeping and stole into his heart, but found it 
so cold that it soon fled. The mine-owner felt this and awoke with a 
start. “Ugh!” he cried. “I dreamt that my little daughter who died 
last year smiled down on me from heaven. What a silly dream 1 ’ ’ And 
then, calling to his servant, he said, “James, pull that curtain down 
closer and shut the sunlight out. It disturbs my sleep.” 

“Sir,” said James, “I did not wish to rouse you, but now that you 
are awake, I wish to tell you that the strikers are marching through the 
city.” 

“What!” cried the mine-owner. “So early in the morning?” 

“Yes, sir,” answered James. 

“Order the police to arrest their leader,” said the mine-owner. 

“Why? What wrong has he done?” asked James. 

“How dare you talk this way to your master?” cried the mine- 
owner. “Whoever is a friend of the strikers must go to prison!” 

And so Giuseppe was arrested and the sun hid himself behind the 
clouds and the tears that the strikers shed looked like diamonds no 
longer. 

For many months Giuseppe was kept in a small, damp cell, and all 
because of his kind-heartedness. He now remembered how he had once 
been kind to a sparrow and how he had been punished for it, and his 

| 48 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


heart was very heavy. And he often thought of the mermaid, who never 
came to see him now, for even a mermaid, who lives at the bottom of the 
sea, can hardly breathe in a prison-cell. When he got up in the morn- 
ing, he would begin to walk back and forth in his little cell. And often 
he closed his eyes and imagined he was in Italy, walking among the 
orange-trees of his father’s garden, but when he had taken only a few 
steps, his hand would strike something cold and wet. And then he 
would open his eyes and find himself in a small room with iron bars 
in front of him. Sometimes he imagined he was sitting on the sea- 
shore with the waves chasing one another far, far into the distance, 
and the stars smiling millions and millions of miles above him, and 
the wind bearing to him the voice of the mermaid, but suddenly he 
would find himself almost crushed by the narrow walls and the low dark 
ceiling while in his ears there arose a harsh din of prisoners’ songs and 
laughter and curses. 


GIUSEPPE 


CHAPTER X. 

Giuseppe's Trial. 

At last the day of the trial came and Giuseppe was taken to the 
court-house. The judge had the hardest time in the world to pick out 
twelve men for the jury, for everybody knew Giuseppe to be innocent. 
But after many days the jury was chosen and the trial began. The 
principal witnesses against Giuseppe were the doctor and the priest 
and the landlord whom Giuseppe had once met at the poor miner’s house, 
and the rich mine-owner. 

The 'doctor stood up first and said, ‘ ‘ Giuseppe ought to be con- 
demned to the electric chair, because one day, when I said that it was 
none of my business whether the poor could be cured of consumption, 
he said that I was talking nonsense." 

“You are right," said the judge, “for a doctor must only tell 
people to get well, but it is not his business to tell them how to get well." 

Then the priest aro'se and said. “I, too, believe that Giuseppe ought 
to be condemned to the electric chair, because when I told the sick 
woman that it was God’s will that she should be poor and sick, he said 
that I was telling an untruth." 

“You, too, are right," said the judge, “for a priest must tell the 
poor to be satisfied with their poverty." 

And after the priest the landlord stepped forward and said, “I 
also agree with the doctor and the priest that Giuseppe ought to be 
killed, for when I told the poor people to go into the street unless they 
could pay my rent, he said I was wicked and unjust." 

“And I agree with you, too," said the judge, “for a landlord must 
preserve the holiness of private property." 

At last the mine-owner stood up and said, “I have the best proof 
of all that Giuseppe ought to be executed, because I can show that he has 
a kind heart." 

“To have a kind heart is the greatest crime in the world," said 
the judge, “and if you can prove that Giuseppe has a kind heart, then 
he surely is guilty. ’ ’ 

“I can prove it easily," said the mine-owner. “Giuseppe has been 


| 50 ] 


GIUSEPPE 


trying to help others without getting any money for it/^ 

“WhatP^ cried the judge, “you don’t mean to say that there are 
such kind people still alive in this world.” 

“Not many,” said the mine-owner, “ but Giuseppe is one of them.” 

“Then he is indeed guilty,” said the judge. And then, turning 
to Giuseppe, he asked, “Have you anything to say for yourself?” 

“I have little to say to people like you,” said Giuseppe, “ for you 
are rich and you will not understand me. You think that money is the 
most important thing in the world, and if anyone believes that noble 
deeds and a kind heart are more important than money, you put him 
into prison and try to kill him. None but children and those that have 
suffered can understand me, and so I will only tell you this : You may 
kill me if you wish, but if you do, there are many others like Giuseppe 
who will be glad to give up their lives to help the poor and the 
oppressed. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ How sweet his voice is ! ” said one of the jury. 

“Amd how kind his eyes look!” said another. 

“And what a noble soul he has!” exclaimed a third. 

“Stop your muttering,” said the judge, “and tell me whether 
you think Giuseppe guilty or innocent. ’ ’ 

“Giuseppe is innocent!” they cried in a loud voice, “but you are 
guilty, and the witnesses are guilty, and the mine-owner is guilty!” 

And then the friends of Giuseppe crowded around him and pressed 
his hands and wept with joy, and when the people heard that he had 
been freed they went to rejoice with him, and mothers took their babes 
in their arms that they might see Giuseppe, and old men who had for 
months lain in bed took their crutches and hobbled over to the court- 
house to get a glimpse of him, and everybody hugged everybody else 
and cried, “Giuseppe is free ! our friend is with us again!” And from 
that day on Giuseppe gained a title greater than the title of the greatest 
king on earth, greater even than the title of the president of the United 
States, for all people ever afterwards called him, “Giuseppe, the Friend 
of the Toilers.” 


[ 51 ] 


Cosimopolitan 


I 

Whirled about by many tempests, 

As in deserts are the sands, 

Tell us not that we are strangers, 
Foreigners from other lands. 

All the world one heaven mantles. 
Hearts are pure in every place ; 
God hath made us all His image, 
Children of a single race. 

In this world ye, too, are strangers, 
All are foreigners at birth, 

And in death one great migration 
Exiles all alike from earth. 

Let us, then, in life be brothers. 
Hither swept from every mart, 
Shoulder close to shoulder standing. 
Hand to hand, and heart to heart. 


[ 52 ] 


X.ausi)ter Wtttif 










j 



CHARACTERS. 


Laughter 


Tears 


Boy 


Wealth 


Boy’s Father 





■) 


{ 


( 



i 


1 


') 

1 

'I 

s, 

I 





Eaugijter OTmji 

SCENE. 

A road in the country. Enter Laughter, holding both his sides and 
overbubbling with merriment, R. and Tears, sighing and continually 
wiping her eyes, L. They meet in the middle of the road. Both stop 
when they see each other. 

Laughter : Hello, you ! 

Tears : Hello, you ! 

Laughter : Who are you ? 

Tears : I am Tears. And you ? 

Laughter : I am Laughter. Isn^t it funny that we should meet? 

Tears : Not at all. It^s very natural. But tell me where you live and 
what’s your business. 

Laughter: I live everywhere. Sometimes at the bottom of a brook 
where the water gurgles over the pebbles, and sometimes I hide myself 
in the heart of flowers. I live wherever there is sunshine and love. And 
where do you live ? 

Tears : I live wherever there is night and misery. Often I ride in the 
wind’s car when it carries the king of Death over the world. Sometimes 
I sail upon the sea when there is a storm on it ; but most often I find a 
home in the hearts of men and women and children. 

Laughter: What? You don’t mean to say that children can like 
Tears ? 

Tears: Nobody likes me. But I never ask anybody’s opinion. I 
come wherever I please. 

Laughter : But tell me, have you always lived in the hearts of chil- 
dren? 

Tears: No, it’s only very lately that I’ve moved there. 

Laughter : What made you do it ? 

Tears : Wealth made me do it. 

Laughter : Tell me how ? 

Tears: He makes little children work for him, when the children 
ought to laugh and play. 

Laughter: I’d like to stop that. 

Tears: You can’t. 

Laughter: Why? 


[ 57 ] 


LAUGHTER WINS 


Tears : Because Wealth is strong and I help him. 

Laughter: Does Wealth like you? 

Tears : No, he hates me. 

Laughter : Then why does he use you ? 

Tears: I’m just like poison to Wealth. He hates to have me him- 
self, but he loves to give me to others. 

Laughter: Oh, I see. It’s you then that makes the poor unhappy. 

Tears: It isn’t me, it’s Wealth. But I help him, to be sure. 

Laughter: I’m going to punish you. 

Tears: What’s the good of quarrelling? I’ll tell you what we had 
better do. Let’s make a bet. 

Laughter : What kind of bet ? 

Tears: Do you see that little boy coming there? Let’s both try to 
see who can get into his heart and live there. If I win, I want you to 
leave this world, and if you win, then I’ll get out of the way. 

Laughter: Good! Let’s begin right now. (Enter L. a little hoy of 
about ten, poorly dressed and barefoot, but happy. He whistles and 
tosses a ball into the air, screaming with delight whenever he catches it.) 

Laughter: Hello! It’s the very boy with whom I’ve been playing 
only this morning ! 

Tears: I’ve never seen him before. 

Boy : Heigho, Laughter, how are you ? 

Laughter: Fine! How are you? 

Boy: Bully! 

Laughter: Where are you going? 

Boy: I’m going to meet my father, who is coming home from the 

mill. 

Laughter : Is he coming soon ? 

Boy: Yep! But who’s this ugly thing you’ve got here? 

Tears : My name is Tears. 

Boy: ( Shrinks from her.) I hate you. You make me feel cold and 
sick and you make me sneeze. Go away. 

Tears: No, my little man, I musn’t go away, for I am to become 
your playmate. 

Boy : Go away, I am afraid of you ! (Tries to shield himself behind 
Laughter.) Please, Laughter dear, don’t let her get me ! 

Laughter : I ’ll take care of you. 

Tears: Just wait till Wealth comes and then we’ll see. 

Laughter : Is he coming here ? 

Tears: I expect him any minute. He’s out for a walk and ought to 
be on his way home now. 

Laughter: What will Wealth do to this boy? 

Tears: Just wait, and you will see. 

Boy: But my papa won’t let him! 

Tears : Your papa and everybody else is afraid of him. 


[ 58 ] 


LAUGHTER WINS 


Boy: (Turning to Laughter.) Why is papa afraid of him? 

Laughter: I guess because he’s rich. 

Boy : What does that mean ? 

Laughter: I don’t know. Nobody knows. Only, whenever Wealth 
says, “Fall at my feet,” everybody is afraid and does just as he is told. 

Boy: What makes Wealth so strong? 

Laughter : Money makes him so strong. 

Boy : Where does he get the money ? 

Laughter : He doesn’t get it himself. Others get it for him. 

Boy : Then the people who get the money for him ought to be strong, 
instead of Wealth. 

Tears: Now you just stop your talking, for Wealth hates to have 
you talk that way. He ’ll punish you for saying this. 

Boy: I don’t care. I’ll say it ’cause it’s right! 

Tears : You had better keep still, for here comes Wealth and he will 
make me your playmate. 

Boy: (Hides behind Laughter.) Don’t let him do it. Laughter 
dear, oh, don’t let him do it ! 

Tears: Come, come, don’t be foolish. (Touches Boy^s eyes. Boy 
screams. Enter Wealthy L.) 

Wealth : What’s all this noise about ? 

Tears : Oh, nothing. It ’s only a poor boy who is afraid of me. 

Wealth: What! A poor boy afraid of Tears? How funny! Why, 
if I had my way, all poor children would have Tears with their bread 
at every breakfast, dinner, and supper. But who is this boy ? 

Tears : He belongs to one of the men who works in your mill. 

Wealth : Is that so ? Then how does he happen to be idle, instead 
of working in the mill himself? 

Tears : I don ’t know. Ask him. 

Wealth : Come, tell me, you little rascal, why don’t you work in the 
mill? 

Boy : ’Cause papa wouldn ’t let me. 

Wealth: Why? 

Boy : I had three brothers who worked in the mill and died. Two 
of ’em died because when they tried to breathe, it sounded funny like a 
saw, and they had a cough that was just like dry wood cracklin’ in the 
fire. And the third one got killed by the machine in the mill. And now 
I’m the only boy papa has left, and he says he’d rather starve than let 
me go to work in the mill. 

Wealth : Nonsense ! You tell your father that he must send you to 
work in the mill to-morrow morning, or else he’ll get fired himself. 

Boy: Then I’m afraid I’ll die like my brothers. 

Wealth : But I ’ll get plenty of work out of you before you die, I 
assure you. 

Boy: I won’t work for you! 


[ 59 ] 


LAV GET EE WINS 


Wealth : You’ll have to if I say so. I shall be going now, and don’t 
you forget to tell your father that I want you to come to work to-morrow. 

(Boy shrinks behind Laughter and cries softly.) 

Tears: (To Wealth.) His father will pass by this place very soon. 
Perhaps you had better wait and speak to him yourself. 

Wealth : I think I will. 

Laughter: (To Boy.) Come, don’t cry, we shall win yet, and you 
will be happier than ever before. 

Boy: Where are you. Laughter? My eyes are blinded with tears 
and I can’t see you. 

Tears: Hooray! I’ve won already. (To Boy.) Come along and 
play with me. 

Boy : No 1 Let me alone ! 

Tears: Stop your nonsense! Come along. 

Boy: No! I won’t, I won’t, I won’t ! 

Tears : Yes, you will ! (Begins to drag Boy.) 

Boy: Help me. Laughter! Help me, papa! (Enter Father hur- 
riedly, B.) 

Father: What’s the matter? 

Boy : Wealth and Tears are trying to take me away ! Oh, save me 
from them ! 

Father : I will ! 

Laughter : I will help you ! But why are you so late ? 

Father: I have been at a strikers’ meeting. 

Laughter: What did you do there? 

Father: I heard a poet speaking, and he told us how to become 
strong and not to fear the rich. 

Wealth: What’s that, you scoundrel? What did that fool poet tell 

you? 

Father: I can’t repeat exactly what he said, because when he spoke, 
it seemed as if all the hills and all the seas had a voice and said, ‘‘All men 
must be happy, and all slaves must be free ! ’ ’ And then he recited some- 
thing about little children who have to work in the mill, and when he 
finished, we all cried out and said, “Never will we allow our little chil- 
dren to work again!” 

Laughter : What did he say about the children in the mill ? 

Father: I don’t remember the exact words, but it was something 
like this : 


“ ‘0 tell me, wind in the darkness sighing. 

What are you murmuring through the cold?’ 

‘ I echo the wails of the children, dying. 

Whose blood and whose bone is ground into gold. ’ 


[ 60 ] 


LAUGHTER WINS 


^And tell me, O stars in the darkness peeping, 

What do you see through the wind and night?* 

^ We see rich men carousing or sleeping. 

Whilst children are toiling for their delight.* 

“ *And ye children who go ere dawn to your labor, 

Why are your voices and footsteps so still ? * 

‘ Hush, for we must not waken our neighbor, 

The master and lord of the mill. * * * 

Wealth'. These people are becoming too insolent. We shall have 
to put a stop to this sort of thing. Tell me. Tears, what shall we do about 
it? 

Tears : Send me among these people, and I will tame them. 

Father: We are not afraid of you. We’ll strike in spite of you. 

Tears : I will bring my brother Disease to fight you. 

Laughter: And I will bring my father. Courage, and my sister, 
Patience, to help the strikers. 

Father : Yes, and we are determined to win ! 

Tears : (Begins to snivel.) I’m fraid we lose ! 

Wealth: (Angry.) Why? You wouldn’t give up as easily as this, 
would you ? 

Tears: I’m afraid we’ll have to, for Tears, with all her army of 
Sickness and Death and Devils and Rich Men, can’t win against the 
strikers when they are helped by Courage and Patience and Laughter. 

Wealth : Then what will be left for us ? 

Tears : Nothing but myself. I shall always be your playmate now. 

Wealth: No, I can’t stand that. 

Father: You needn’t if you take our advice. 

Wealth : What do you mean ? 

Father: If you do what we tell you, then you’ll never need Tears 
for a playmate ; for you will always be with us. 

Wealth : What must I do ? 

Father: Work like us. 

Wealth : What ! Who ever heard of Wealth having to work? 

Laughter: All right. If you don’t want to work, then Tears will 
have to be your playfellow. Choose between Work and Tears. 

Wealth: I’m in a terrible fix. It’s bad enough to have to work, 
but it’s much worse to have Tears for your chum all your life. I suppose 
I shall have to choose Work then. 

Laughter: I’m glad you have chosen so sensibly. 

Wealth : Oh, but I hate work ! 

Father : Yes, but Laughter and Happiness will make you love your 

work. 


[ 61 ] 


LAUGHTER WINS 


Wealth: All right, then. I choose Work, and I shall always work 
together with yon. 

Boy: Hooray \( Tosses hall up and catches it.) 

Tears : Then what^s to become of me ? 

Laughter: You don’t belong here, and you had no right to come 
among living people anyway, and the sooner you get out the better. 

Tears: (Frightened, runs off.) I’d better go, for it does make me 
sick when people are happy. 

Laughter : (To audience. j And now, whoever of you is willing to 
work, may join our company. And Laughter and Happiness will be 
your playmates forever. 


CUETAIN. 




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